Cigarette Scars
by Jonah Tate
Summary: She knew everything about him, or so she thought.


She knew everything about him.

She knew what he liked to drink, vodka straight from the bottle with the occasional JD shot. She knew how many times a day he smoked, usually two times a day, unless it was a bad day, the he smoked four times.

She knew that he liked to lie in the grass field near the Ravine and look up into the sky, late at night. Where he would dream about his future and how he wanted to live. He wanted to go to college one day for science and study astronomy, at least as a minor. He was always fascinated with stars. His mother use to let him sit on her lap when he was little and watch the stars come out. Those were the moments he treasured most. The moments that were from the part of his life he called _The Before_

She knew that he split his life into two different sections there was _The Before, _which was a collection of all his favorite childhood memories. And then there was _The After _which was the section that contained all the horrible events that took place in his life after his mother married Jeff, his now step father. The step father who with him brought three sons. His step family hated him, and they made it known.

She knew where all his scars were and how he got them. The cut on the back of his neck? His step father pushed him into a glass table when he forgot to vacuum the living room. The dark blue bruise on his thigh? His brother kicked him with his freshly polish steal toe boot after he tried to stand up for himself.

She knew everything about him, or so she thought.

The makeshift dance studio in Bianca's basement was enough to fill her needs. The large mirror she found in a junk yard lay against the back wall, in front of her dance floor. The cold, grey cement flooring went on for the length of the basement, except for a small corner that was covered with maple wood. Bianca didn't have enough money to put the wooden flooring all the way around her basement, so she settled with cement.

Her fingers turned the large black knob of her stereo to the right and loud music echoed through the room. Bianca rolled her neck and then reached down to her toes, stretching her muscles. She stood up, and then began to move. Her arms reaching above her head and her body moved to the music. Her sneakers squeaked against the floor as she moved around. Her head bounced as her arms and torso isolated in tune with the music.

She didn't stop moving when she heard the door to the basement open. And she didn't stop moving when she heard heavy foot steps come down the wooden stairs. She continued to look at herself in the mirror, her eyes locked on her foot movement and not her guest.

As her song began to come to a close, Bianca's eye wondered over to the corner of the room. Fitz stood in the door way, his back hunched over unlaces his tan combat boots and removing them from his feet. He knew Bianca hated him and Owen walking on her dance floor with their boots so they always remember to remove them. Once he was finished, Fitz took a white cigarette from behind his ear and put the tip at his lips. He fished around in his pocket for a few seconds before pulling out a clear lighter.

Bianca sighed, but continued to move. She knew Fitz had two cigarettes during the day; she was with him when he did. And the cigarette he was lighting up now had to be at least his third. Today was a bad day.

The music came to an end and Bianca stopped dancing, she admired herself in the large mirror before turning around. Her face was hard and she put up her tough girl persona.

"How many times have I asked you not to smoke in my studio?" She spat. Her hand rested on her hip and she stared icily at the boy. Fitz leaned against the wall, his right foot crossed over his left one and he shrugged. He pulled the white stick from his lips and let the smoke escape his mouth.

"A few times." Fitz said nonchalantly. He walked over to the dark blue love seat in the corner of the basement. He sat down and pulled a porcelain bowl from under the couch and set it on the arm. He tapped the edge of the cigarette with his finger and watched as the ashes fell. He lifted it up to his lips but before latched onto the end it look back at Bianca. "If you were going to enforce the rule, you would have gotten rid of my ash tray." Fitz said, he gave her a playful smirk before putting the cigarette in between his lips again.

Bianca pursed her lips and rolled her eyes. She walked over to him and sat down on the other side of the love seat. "You're such an ass, Mark." She mumbled and crossed her knees.

"Don't call me that." Fitz's demand didn't faze Bianca, he had said that very same statement to her many times before and in that same tone.

She knew though, that she shouldn't call him _Mark_. It was his dad's name, the man that left him and his mother when he was only a few weeks old. His namesake stole all his mother's hard earn money and skipped town, leaving her to fend for herself and take care of her new born baby. When Fitz was around eight years old he learned the true story of where his father was. And when he did he vowed to never be like his father. Starting with his name. He never went by Mark anyone, except by teachers, his mother and occasionally Bianca. But to his peers he was_ Fitz_ and only _Fitz._ Call him Mark and you may as well write your will.

"Yeah sorry." Bianca said before turning around and facing him. "If you're going to stay here you may as well show me." She deadpanned.

Fitz furrowed his eyebrows and tapped the white stick against the bowl again. "Show you what?"

"Don't play dumb. There's only one reason why you would be here at 9 pm on a Friday night, Fitz."

There was silence between them and then a sigh fell from the boy. He smashed his cigarette butt into the ash tray and stood up. He ran his fingers threw his short dirty blonde hair and looked around the room quickly, making sure the basement door was locked. Fitz unzippered his hoodie and tossed it on the ground. His hands shakily gripped the hem of his shirt and slowly pealed it off his body. He dropped it on top of his hoodie and turned around, his back facing Bianca.

She closed her eyes when he first turned around. She only caught a glimpse of the purple skin and she could already feel herself getting sick. Standing up, Bianca slowly opened her eyes again and took a moment to look at the marks on Fitz's back.

The right side of his back was full of scratches and cuts, some of which Bianca had cleaned up before. His left side was painted with colors of healing bruises. Natural yellows, blues and purples made it almost impossible to see his actual skin color. On the middle of his back was a fresh bruise. Bianca reached out and ran her finger lightly over the reddened skin and Fitz let out a loud yelp.

"_Don't fucking touch it." _He demanded in same tone he used before when she had called him Mark. But this time, there was a sense of venerability in his voice that Bianca picked up right away.

Bianca didn't touch the spot again but instead she moved her finger around it and inspected it. She had done this many times before, fixed up his wounds that is. She wasn't a nurse was she an expert on medicine. But she made it work.

"There are no cuts this time, so I don't need to clean it. But I'll go upstairs and get an ice pack." Bianca said. She moved around Fitz and motioned for him to go back and sit down on the love seat. She rushed up stairs and pulled a blue ice pack out of the freezer, the same one she used when her muscles ached from dance. She wrapped it in a paper towel and walked back down the stairs.

Fitz sat on her love seat, shirtless. His hands rested on his knees and his eyes were locked onto the ground. Carefully, Bianca moved behind him and arranged herself so she could comfortably tend to his back while sitting on the small love seat. When she was content, Bianca placed his wrapped ice pack on Fitz's hot skin. The boy let out a gasp, his hands gripping his knees. The temperature change had startled him but he slowly got use to it. His muscles relaxed and he closed his eyes.

"You can't keep letting this happen."

"You say that every time."

"I wouldn't have to say it if you told someone other than me about what's been happening."

Fitz shook his head and stayed silent for a moment. "It's too complicated."

Bianca scoffed and pushed the ice pack up towards his warm bruise. "You're step dad beats you, what's complicated? Just tell someone. I can't keep covering for you and fixing you up Fitz." She said.

"I don't want to tell someone. Police will get involved and just a lot of shit will happen that I don't want to have to deal with." Fitz said. His chewed on his bottom lip and sat up straight when Bianca moved the ice pack directly onto the bruises. "Fuck." He whispered. The cold feeling made him feel uncomfortable at first but he soon loosened up and slouched again.

"You're routine looks good." Fitz mentioned before Bianca could dive back into the abuse subject.

Bianca smiled proudly at the complement. She had been working on the routine for weeks. A scout from a local dance school was coming to her dance class next week and each girl would be given a chance to perform for them. If they impressed the scout enough they could get a full scholarship to one of their many summer programs.

"Thanks, I've been working on it a lot lately. The scouts are coming soon. But that's not what I want to talk about. Listen, if you don't tell somebody about your step family, I will." Bianca said. She pressed the ice pack harder against his skin, making Fitz grunt in pain.

"I'll handle it, I promise. Just give me some time." He whispered. Fitz shrugged Bianca's hands off of him and stood up, grabbing his shirt off of the ground as he did so. Bianca furrowed her eyebrow as he stood up. He would usually spend the night when he came over. The two of them would drink vodka shots on her bedroom floor until they were both to drunk to move.

"Where are you going?" She questioned, getting up from the love seat and tossing the ice pack back and forth in her hands.

Fitz pulled his shirt back over his head and straightened it out and fixed his short hair. "Home." He answered without looking at her.

"You're not staying?"

"No, not tonight."

"Fine."

Bianca shrugged and crossed her arms a cross her chest, trying her best not to show that she was disappointed that he wasn't staying. She secretly loved the private time they spent together.

Fitz slipped his hoodie back onto his body and zipped it up. He stuffed his box of cigarettes and his lighter back into his hoodie pocket. Looking up, Fitz's eyes met Bianca's one more time before he turned around towards the steps.

"What's gotten into you lately?" Bianca snapped at Fitz as his right foot hit the wood of the first step that led to the first floor. Fitz stopped walked and he turned around and leaned against the wall again.

"Nothing, I'm perfectly fine." He answered her in a monotone voice.

"That's a bunch of bullshit. You've been acting all sketchy lately, especially around me. Did I do something wrong?" Bianca asked. She walked forward towards Fitz, her hands falling to her side.

Fitz didn't answer, stead he looked away from her, towards the back of the basement. He stayed quiet for what seemed like forever. And then he finally looked back and Bianca. His hands shoved into his pockets and he tensed up.

"…You didn't no anything wrong. I'm just being a jealous ass hole." Fitz mumbled. Bianca gave him a questioning look and continued to move towards him. She stopped walking when she was about a foot away. Placing her hand on her hip Bianca asked him;

"_Jealous? _Jealous about what?"

Fitz sighed and pushed himself off the wall and passed Bianca. His hands pulled at his dirty blonde hair again an he sighed. "It's stupid. I just….you've been drooling over Torres lately and it's been pissing me off." Fitz said.

"What does me flirting with Drew have to do with you acting like an ass to me?" Bianca asked.

Fitz laughed out load and turned around to face her. "Can you really not tell Bee? I thought you would have put the pieces together by now."

Bianca shook her head and bit her lip. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"I like you!" Fitz exclaimed. "As middle school as it sounds, I have a crush on you. And it sucks watching you throw yourself at that jock when he obviously would only use you for sex."

"You like me?" Bianca looked at him astonished. She never would have thought that _Fitz _liked _her. _They had always had a brother/sister relationship. She didn't think he thought about her like that, but she was wrong.

"Yeah I like you."

"We sound like 6th graders right now."

"I know…"

Bianca looked around the basement, looking anywhere to avoid Fitz's eyes. "I like you too." She mumbled, looking up at the ceiling of the other side of the basement. She moved her eyes around the room then moved then down to Fitz. He stood frozen, his expression frozen as well. But within a few moments his expression softened and a small smirk pulled at the corners of his mouth.

Fitz stepped forward slowly, towards Bianca and Bianca did the same. He reached out towards her hand and Bianca grasped onto his. With one big pull, Fitz's body crashed against Bianca and he hand rested on the crook of her neck. He ran his fingers down to her chin and lifted her chin so that their eyes met. Fitz leaned down and captured Bianca's lips in his own.

Bianca's hand moved to the back of Fitz's neck and she pulled him closer to her. The kiss last for no more than a minute. The two pulled apart, their breathing was in short gasps but it soon went back to normal. There was silence between then, other than the sound of their breathing. Moments went by before either of them said anything. They were both afraid to ruin the moment. Bianca finally built up the courage to speak.

"I didn't know you liked me."

Fitz smiled and shook his head. "You have to stop acting like you know everything about me."


End file.
